


Love Like Taffy

by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub Play, M/M, Once Again the Author Introduces Herself to a Fandom By Offering Explicit Smut, Shameless Smut, Smut, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:13:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23852116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/pseuds/letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
Summary: Buck likes it when Eddie puts him in his place. And Eddie's noticed.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 96
Kudos: 1073





	Love Like Taffy

**Author's Note:**

> Translation into Chinese now available here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25934923

Long before he was dating Buck, Eddie was aware that Buck likes to… well.

_You want to know what my problem is?_

Buck likes to push, to put up a stink, throw a tantrum, and then have someone lay down the law. It’s basic kid stuff. Eddie doesn’t know a lot about Buck’s childhood or parents, but he did one time have a conversation with Maddie where she mentioned that she was kind of the disciplinarian growing up, and that spoke volumes. So Buck never had parental guidance, never had someone setting boundaries, and nobody likes that. Eddie likes to set the boundaries himself, thanks, but the fact is humans like to know where the cliff edge is and nobody ever gave Buck that, it seems.

Which explains why he and Bobby go at it so much.

But just because someone’s got a habit of acting like a puppy who wants to see if its owner really _will_ scold him if he pees on the rug, doesn’t mean that person likes being told what to do in the bedroom. And Eddie knows he’s the first man Buck’s ever been with, and only Buck’s second serious relationship. So he doesn’t push.

He just… notices things.

He notices that Buck tends to wait for instructions during sex. He notices that Buck will do something and then look to Eddie like a dog wagging its tail, _did you see that? Did you see that?_ He notices that Buck tends to say _make me_ a lot when they’re making out and Eddie says _hold still for fuck’s sake_ as he tries to wrestle Buck’s clothes off.

But he’s still not really sure, not until they’re up in the loft at the station one afternoon and Bobby’s trying to get Buck to sit down for dinner and Buck is way too into whatever his latest tirade is. He’s waving his hands, pacing, the whole shebang, and it’s adorable, but also, Eddie would like to eat, thanks. And Bobby doesn’t start dinner until everyone sits down.

“Buck, siddown,” Bobby says, but he’s only about halfway down his rope, not quite at the end of it, and Buck can obviously tell because he just pouts.

Eddie’s not even really thinking about it. “Buck, sit.”

Buck sits down like his legs gave out.

Eddie looks up, and sees a kind of dazed look on Buck’s face, like he’s not sure what to do with himself. Oh. _Oh._

Fascinating.

Maybe it’s time to… test his theory, a little.

* * *

Buck doesn’t know what the fuck Eddie’s doing but it’s driving him _insane._

One day they’re putting their shit into their lockers and Hen’s telling them all to behave when they come over to her house for dinner.

Before Buck can say anything, as Hen and Chim turn their backs, he feels warm hands pressing against his sides, then sliding down to rest on his hips. “You’ll behave, won’t you?” Eddie asks, his voice warm and low.

Hoooooooooooly mother of God. Buck’s entire mouth is dry. “Yeah,” he croaks, because what else is he gonna say to that?

Eddie just hums and moves away, leaving Buck—well. Leaving Buck to think about dead kittens for a couple minutes.

And then, a few days later, they’re hanging out at Eddie’s, in the middle of a board game with Christopher, and Eddie says, “Hey, Buck, could you get me a beer too?” and Buck’s up anyway so yeah, he’s gonna grab one for Eddie, no problem, and he hands it to him and Eddie’s hand wraps around his as he takes the beer bottle and he murmurs _good boy_ and Buck’s pretty sure he blacks out for a second.

Christopher, absorbed in the game, isn’t even looking up, and Eddie’s ostensibly looking at the game too, but Buck knows that Eddie has got to, he’s _got_ to be aware of the effect he just had on him, and Buck sits down quickly while he tries to get his breathing back under control.

And then, _then,_ a week after that, he’s sitting on the couch, Eddie’s just put Christopher to bed, and Buck’s got the game on. It’s the playoffs so he’s pretty fucking absorbed in it, that is until Eddie walks over and sits down straddling his lap and suddenly Buck’s not watching anything because his eyes are closed and he’s being thoroughly kissed.

Which is all well and normal, until he reaches up to touch and finds Eddie’s hands around his wrists, pressing them down into the couch. “No,” Eddie orders, punctuating it with a slow, dirty grind of his hips, and Buck doesn’t _quite_ come but it’s a real close fuckin’ call as his heart jumps and his eyes just about roll back into his head.

What. The fuck.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” he asks, a couple days afterwards, because it takes him forty-eight hours to put the pieces of his brain back together.

“I don’t know,” Eddie says, the picture of innocence as he gets a glass of water from the station kitchen. “What is going on?”

“You know what I’m talking about.” Buck lowers his voice because he might be okay with the others knowing he dates Eddie but he draws the line at them knowing exactly what they get up to in the bedroom. “The—the ordering me around, and the touching, and the ‘good boy’.”

Eddie shrugs. “Do you not like it? Because I can stop if you’re uncomfortable.”

Is he uncomfortable? Fuck, no, he’s _turned on._ He feels like he’s being cockblocked, which is a pretty impressive feat considering he’s in a committed relationship and gets regular sex out of it.

“It’s not that.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just sips his water, and that is somehow the most infuriating thing he could possibly be doing right at this moment.

Buck braces his hand on the counter. “Eddie. C’mon. You keep—you keep doing that shit and you know what it does to me but you’re not—”

“I mean, I think I know what it does to you, but I can’t be sure until you tell me, now can I?”

Buck’s going to wipe that smug little smirk right off of his face. “I—” Soon as he can remember how to talk.

Eddie’s smirk only grows. “What does it do to you, Buck?”

He steals Eddie’s water and takes a gulp. “Makes me…” He doesn’t know what to say. He’s had phone sex before, for crying out loud, why is this so difficult? “Want you to do it more.”

Eddie steals the water back. “Is it too much?”

No, the fucker. “It’s not enough, and you know it.”

“I only know what you tell me.” Eddie finishes off the water, smiles at him all sunshine and rainbows, and then starts walking away.

Bastard. Buck follows, trotting after him. “What do you want me to say, huh? That I like it when you order me around?”

Chim, who was walking up the steps towards them, does a hard one-eighty and dashes right back down again. Ah. So maybe Buck’s voice just then was louder than he’d intended it to be.

Eddie turns around. “Maybe I do want you to say that.”

He claps Buck on the shoulder, like they were just discussing dinner plans instead of… _that,_ and then heads down the stairs after Chim.

* * *

Eddie knows he’s been playing kind of fast and loose with Buck the last few weeks, testing the waters and keying Buck up in the process. The guy looks like he’s ready to vibrate out of his own skin, and Eddie feels bad, but teasing his boyfriend is just too _fun._

There is, however, a limit to that kind of thing, and Buck’s pouting like a puppy denied a walk is adorable but also depressing, so Eddie waits until they’re back home (not that Buck’s moved in yet, but he might as well have) to bring it up.

Specifically, he waits until they’re sprawled out on the couch ignoring the latest _Fast and Furious_ movie in favor of making out to bring it up.

He’s on top, straddling Buck, because Buck seems to like the weight of Eddie on top of him, seems to feel grounded that way, and Buck’s hands are rucking up the back of his shirt, nails dragging over his shoulder blades, and Eddie grabs them, pins them down on either side of Buck’s head.

Buck arches, gasping, his eyes dark and wild. Eddie mouths at the curve of his jaw. “Do you like this? When I take control?”

“Fuck. Yes, okay? Yeah, it’s hot. I want you to—to tell me what to do, I want you to—to move me around where you want me, I want—I like when—” Buck swallows, and he’s flushed all over, but he soldiers through it. “I like it when you say I’m good.”

The _pleasure_ that shoots through him, hot and electric, makes him shiver. A part of him has known this, always known it, ever since he confronted Buck in the gym and Buck got a look in his eyes and backed down, lips parted. He’s known it since he said _you can have my back any day_ and Buck replied _or you can have mine_.

But fuck, hearing Buck _say_ it… Eddie kisses him, squeezes his wrists, and Buck moans into it.

“You want me to praise you?” he asks, working his hips until he’s settled in between Buck’s thighs, feeling their hard cocks pressing up against each other through the sweats they’re wearing. “Tell you what to do and when, say you’re good when you listen?”

Buck wraps his legs around him, kisses him with everything, and Eddie wants to melt because Buck never holds anything back from him. Buck gives all of himself to Eddie, to their _family,_ and Eddie works so hard to be worthy of it. He never has to wonder what Buck’s thinking or feeling, he never has to worry that Buck’s hiding a part of himself. Buck’s unashamed, and not afraid to ask for what he wants, and fuck, it’s addicting.

“Yeah.” Buck breathes the words against his lips. “Yeah, can we do that? Please? Please can we?”

Jesus Christ, they’ve barely even started and Buck’s already begging, already sounds so goddamn pretty while doing it.

And, well. Chris is out like a light, they’ve got plenty of time…

“Yes.” He tugs Buck’s lower lip between his teeth and tugs on it, nice and slow. “Yeah, we can.”

* * *

Buck is on fire.

His whole body is burning. He wants Eddie so badly, wants Eddie to make good on all the promises he’s been making with every touch, every word, every tease.

“There’s only one decision you get to make tonight.” Eddie’s mouth is hot, right below Buck’s ear, his teeth scraping against the skin with each word. “Do you want me to fuck you? Or ride you?”

Holy fucking motherfuck—

Is both an option?

No, no, let’s be honest here, if he gets his cock inside Eddie, he’s going to come in seconds. No way is he gonna last. “F—fuck me.”

Eddie’s hands skim up and down his sides, reassuring, grounding. “Mmm all right then.”

 _There’s only one decision you get to make tonight._ Everything else is going to be Eddie’s choice, Eddie’s decision, and fuck, Buck wants it so badly he’s crawling out of his fucking skin for it.

Eddie climbs off him but he grabs onto Buck’s hands, interlocking their fingers to tug him to his feet. Buck’s hands are secured in Eddie’s all the way down the short walk to the bedroom, and somehow, that feels profound.

They make sure to close the door behind them (but don’t lock it—they never do) and then Eddie’s running his hands down Buck’s chest, smirking at him like Buck’s a fucking four-course meal and Eddie’s going to eat him bite by bite. “Strip.”

 _Yes, sir._ Buck bites that quip off his tongue before he can voice it. Part of him wants to say it, and mean it, but he says that sarcastically so often, it’s probably best if he just does as he’s told.

He can _feel_ the pleasure radiating off of Eddie as he strips, follows Eddie’s orders. It sends a hot thrill through his stomach and he nearly trips getting his damn socks off.

Eddie snorts with laughter, but the look in his eyes as he trails his gaze up and down Buck’s body is anything but funny. It’s hot and possessive. “God, look at you. So fuckin’ pretty.”

Buck would like to point out that Eddie’s the pretty one, definitely better looking than Buck, but that would just spiral into an argument about who looks like what and this is not the time.

Eddie’s gaze snaps back up to meet his. “On the bed, on all fours. I want your hands on the rail, and keep them there. If you move them, if you touch yourself, we’re done for the night.” He pauses. “That okay?”

 _More_ than okay. Buck wets his lips. “Okay, yeah, definitely.”

He scrambles onto the bed and does as he’s told—Eddie doesn’t have a headboard, exactly, but there’s a rail-slat-thing at the head of his bed that you can grab onto, so Buck does, spreading his legs out as he hears the bedside drawer open.

The sound of Eddie getting out of his clothes only riles him up more, and he squeezes the rail. When he feels Eddie’s lips against the back of his neck, he jolts.

“So tense.” Eddie’s teasing, his voice light and soft, and a moment later Buck feels fingers gliding along his stomach. “We’re gonna have to fix that.”

Buck whines, pushing his ass back, shameless about it, and Eddie just laughs. Buck can’t remember laughing so much during sex as he does with Eddie, except for with Abby. Up until her it was always trying to impress the person, showing off, and getting an orgasm at the same time. Now, though—now he laughs. And he loves it more than just about anything when he can make Eddie laugh.

Eddie kisses down his spine as he massages around Buck’s rim, relaxing him. Buck breathes deep and even, good at this after a few months. The first few times he was instinctively tense and it took a lot of work and coaxing, but now his body knows what’s coming, is used to it, and _craves_ it.

“That’s it.” There’s the sound of the lube cap, and then a cool, slick finger starts to press inside. “Fuck, stay still for me.”

Buck wants to shove himself back into Eddie’s touch, but he does as he’s told. He will never tell Bobby as long as he lives but he likes doing as he’s told. Or maybe it’s just an Eddie thing. He’s not sure and he really doesn’t care right now, not when Eddie’s curling his finger just so.

His cock is hard between his legs, heavy, hanging, and normally this is the part where he’d reach down and stroke himself—and Eddie is definitely aware of that.

Buck keeps his hands on the rail. Resists the temptation and holds on as Eddie adds a second finger, then a third. Eddie keeps avoiding his prostate, and Buck’s not sure if he’s grateful or annoyed.

Eddie starts slowly scissoring his fingers, spreading them, spreading _Buck,_ and it’s so fucking hot but also he’s being so goddamn slow, and Buck—Buck wants to get fucked, he wants Eddie inside him, properly.

“You gonna work up to your whole fist in there or what?” he complains over his shoulder.

There’s a sharp slap to his ass, and Buck’s entire body _jolts._ Eddie’s spanked him a couple times before, but playfully, as he walked by, not in this context, and Buck’s cock spurts and his toes curl and holy Jesus he wants that again.

“You’re so impatient,” Eddie huffs, but he sounds incredibly fond, and Buck grins at him over his shoulder. “Oh, did you like that?”

“Maybe.” He wiggles his ass at Eddie, being a total brat about it, and Eddie bites him lightly in retaliation.

“You should behave,” Eddie warns, his tone warm but chastising.

“Or what?” Buck demands. “You gonna spank me again?”

“Nah, you liked that too much.” Eddie plasters himself to Buck’s back, and strokes his fingers right against Buck’s prostate, all three of them, the pads of them warm and callused.

Buck moans, his body melting. God, it’s so—so fucking good—

“I’ll fuck you like this,” Eddie continues, his voice so hot and low that Buck feels like his eardrums are getting fucked. And his fingers keep stroking that spot, over and over and over. “You can’t come without something on your dick, so we’ll do it just like this. And you’ll be so fucking crazy but you won’t. Be allowed. To come. It’ll be just like this.”

Buck’s pretty sure he stopped breathing.

“So, you gonna be good? Or am I gonna have to keep you on edge like that?”

He has to swallow a few times before he can get his throat wet enough to speak. “Jesus okay yes I’m behaving, I’ll behave.”

“Good boy.” Eddie pulls his fingers out and Buck feels the mattress dip as Eddie sits back on his heels. “Turn over, you’re gonna ride me.”

“Yes, sir,” Buck blurts out, so fucking in awe of his boyfriend in that moment that it doesn’t occur to him that it might be seen as ridiculous.

Eddie gets a look on his face like he’s been hit with a sack of bricks. “Uh.”

“Should I have—um. Sorry that kind of just slipped out—”

Eddie’s got a hand around the back of Buck’s neck and his tongue in Buck’s mouth before he can even finish his sentence. They shift, tugging at each other until Eddie’s on his back and Buck’s straddling him, making a mess in the process as they smear each other with lube and precome,

“You’re perfect,” Eddie whispers, and Buck thinks his heart is going to explode right out of his fucking chest. “And you’re not even trying, Buck, _Jesus_.”

Of course he’s trying. He’s tried since the beginning to be whatever Eddie needed, because he cares about Eddie and Eddie was his friend (and then so, so much more). But to hear that—it has him pressing into Eddie that much harder, kissing him that much deeper.

Eddie grabs more lube, slicks himself up, and then Buck’s manhandled into position. “Fuck yourself on my cock,” Eddie breathes, and fucking hell, yes, Buck would do that even without being ordered to.

He braces his knees on the bed and does as he’s told, pushing himself up and down, Eddie’s cock going all the way inside of him at this angle, stretching him, making him feel like he might choke on it. Eddie’s hands are bruise-tight on his hips, holding him steady, and he’s staring up at Buck like Buck’s some fuckin’ miracle or some shit.

And then he starts _talking._

“That’s it.” Eddie’s eyes trace the movement of his own cock moving in and out of Buck, and Buck loses a piece of his mind. “That’s good, you’re so good, Buck, you’re being so good for me. Just like that, keep at it, _fuck,_ you got any idea—what you look like, like this? Jesus Christ.”

Buck couldn’t stop himself from moaning if he tried—and he usually does try, because they’ve got a kid sleeping next door—but he can’t, just can’t, not tonight. He’s on fire everywhere, writhing like he’s being paid for it, and he can’t fucking _stop._

Lucky him, Eddie seems into it. Until he pushes himself up to sitting (fuckin’ core strength, man) and kisses Buck, hard enough to bruise. “God, your _noises_ , fuck… someday I’m getting us a hotel and I’ll make you so loud we’ll get complaints from the front desk.”

Oh, he’d like that, he’d really like that. “Yes, please.”

Eddie’s eyes gleam. “What, no sir?”

Ah, fuck, Buck’s created a monster. “Yes, please, _sir_.”

Eddie bites his jaw. “Be. Quiet.”

Buck mimes zipping his lips. It’ll be easy to be quiet, he can do this.

Eddie’s smile is blinding, even in the dark. “Good boy.”

And then Eddie pulls some Krav Maga bullshit and flips him over so that he’s on his back, with Eddie braced over him. Fucker doesn’t even have to pull out.

Hoo boy. Buck’s in trouble.

Eddie gets a good two handfuls of Buck’s ass, lifting him up just a little, and pounds into him, no mercy, right on the fucking spot that has Buck’s eyesight going white. He has to bite down on his knuckles to keep his promise, because he _will,_ he wants to be _good—_

They can’t quite kiss at this angle, not unless Buck gets a hell of a lot more flexible in the next ten seconds, but Eddie can suck a mark into the sensitive skin just below his stomach, and it takes everything in Buck not to moan long and load at that. “So good for me,” Eddie murmurs, and it’s almost inaudible. The look in his eyes is so soft that Buck falls in love with the idiot all over again. “Go ahead, touch yourself.”

Buck doesn’t have to be told twice. His cock is a fucking mess, it’s a slick, easy glide when he wraps his fingers around it, and he’s already right up at the edge. “Can I—”

“Yeah, yeah you can, I want to see you.”

He moves his hand fast, keeping his fist tight, staring at Eddie, at Eddie fucking him, at Eddie telling him to come, calling him a good boy, Eddie who takes _care_ of him—and he comes all over his damn stomach.

Eddie unleashes so many swear words they all run together into a single string of gibberish like a four-car pileup on the 710, and shoves himself messily inside as he comes. They stopped with the condoms about a month ago, after their test results came back, and Buck will never admit it out loud but he likes the mess. At least until it dries.

“Good boy.” Eddie reaches up, runs his hand through Buck’s hair, and Buck feels a warm, solid curl of satisfaction in his chest. “You okay?”

Buck nods. “More than okay, fuck, where’d you learn to do that?”

“Uh.” Eddie shrugs. “Kind of was going on instinct. I mean. I knew I liked being in charge in bed, but I haven’t ever been quite that… explicit about it before.”

That little shit. “Could’ve fooled me.” Each breath feels like it’s punched out of him. He’s never come that hard in his life. “Can we do that again?”

“Oh.” Eddie’s smile goes from soft and fond to wicked. “We are definitely doing that again.”

Buck grins, and keeps grinning, even as Eddie kisses him again.


End file.
